Evie
It's a testament to their demeanors - and their desires to make amends - that they soldier on even when the easy out is there on the horizon. It's an imperfect explanation, but perhaps that is simply Evie's human, aching heart. Maybe the insistence that it's not enough will fade in time as the memory and emotional wounds do the same.
"Maea is...very good at running away from what hurts," she puts delicately, a murmur of sympathy and something far older and more tired than she should be able to express hiding in her tone. "And I'm sorry - that you risked so much, for her and in general, and still have to suffer her absence." It's a kinder way than to loose the sharpness of her tongue to reveal what she really thinks of Maea's continued pattern of behavior. It's a much older and crueler Evie crafting those words anyway. "It helps to know what you were thinking. The hurt of how it felt in that moment..." Evie sucks in a sharp, deep breath. Releases it much slower as she looks up at him and gives a lopsided smile that is more entreaty than assurance. "Give me time. The head and heart have to find a middle ground." Knowing the why won't fix how deep the wound had cut at that moment. Little sutures every day are all she can hope for, until all that's left is a scar.
Refusing to part their hands, Evie gracefully takes the bid for what it is and takes up the topic he provides her instead. "Two sons actually, though that's a story unto itself..." Leaning into the easy love for her family that loosens her tongue and sets the words flowing like warm syrup, Evie fills the uncertain space between them with cautious optimism and the hope for a brighter future for the two of them.
- Fin
"Maea is...very good at running away from what hurts," she puts delicately, a murmur of sympathy and something far older and more tired than she should be able to express hiding in her tone. "And I'm sorry - that you risked so much, for her and in general, and still have to suffer her absence." It's a kinder way than to loose the sharpness of her tongue to reveal what she really thinks of Maea's continued pattern of behavior. It's a much older and crueler Evie crafting those words anyway. "It helps to know what you were thinking. The hurt of how it felt in that moment..." Evie sucks in a sharp, deep breath. Releases it much slower as she looks up at him and gives a lopsided smile that is more entreaty than assurance. "Give me time. The head and heart have to find a middle ground." Knowing the why won't fix how deep the wound had cut at that moment. Little sutures every day are all she can hope for, until all that's left is a scar.
Refusing to part their hands, Evie gracefully takes the bid for what it is and takes up the topic he provides her instead. "Two sons actually, though that's a story unto itself..." Leaning into the easy love for her family that loosens her tongue and sets the words flowing like warm syrup, Evie fills the uncertain space between them with cautious optimism and the hope for a brighter future for the two of them.
- Fin
listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness
like a heartbeat that drives you mad
like a heartbeat that drives you mad
